On Hold
by thinkinginatardis
Summary: ( Set after 11 Calls Clara ) Clara Oswald thought she had heard the last from her Doctor in a phone call- but then he rings again- and this time, he has no choice, frozen in time. Clara has to help him set things back to normal, before all of time freezes- but there are dire consequences, if the present Doctor finds out.
1. Chapter 1

_Ring ring, ring ring._

 _Click._

"Hello?"

"…Hi. It's me again."

Clara slowly cracked open her eyes, letting the brightness of the glinting morning light that cracked through her bedside window fill them. She squinted, the radiance too much for her sleepy pupils to take in at this moment as she swung her legs around and felt a crispy coolness hit her toes as they wriggled from beneath the duvet covers of her single bed. Most people might have groaned, gripped the cotton in their hands and yanked the waves of quilt back over their heads so early as 8 in the morning on a weekend- but not Clara- she had become a morning person over the last few weeks- she was so used to the Doctor's spontaneous visits in his queer outfits now (though she hadn't been at first- with all his odd, quirky bow ties and tweed jackets, she had to check she wasn't dreaming every time he turned up at a ridiculous hour)-

Of course, things were different now. The squared, geeky klutz had been replaced by the man she knew now- and she was sure she'd have felt more warmth in the company of an iceberg than him. Although it had only been 2 weeks ago she had last seen him, and first seen _him._ She remembered the phone call she had had with her Doctor, and how it brought a flickering hope into her mind- or something, at least. But she still couldn't see the aged, lean man who was now a distant silver puff of smoke in her memory as her Doctor.

In some ways, she almost hoped she wouldn't see him again.

Almost.

It didn't take her long to get dressed- she decided to wear the dress her friend had picked out for her last weekend with some fishnet tights- it was dark navy blue, and reached her knees so that they were just concealed. She threw a black bomber jacket over this, and slipped out of her bedroom, the soft carpet rubbing against the balls of her feet as she managed to glide down the stairs hurriedly and make a sharp turn, heading straight for the kitchen down from the stairs.

The temperature cooled a fair bit, and the thick, fluffy carpet turned into hard, clean, icy tiles as she tiptoed over to the bread bin and pulled out a breakfast bar, less caring for food and more interested in clicking down the button on her sleek coffee machine. The old thing needed replacing, it was rambunctiously loud and rattled about to a hazardous extent- but she didn't have the heart; it had been an old pastime off of her mum before she had moved out, and the coffee it made still tasted steaming hot and delicious (though occasionally had a hint of gasoline in it's taste, for a reason she could never fathom).

The machine whirred so furiously in fact that Clara didn't hear the rapid knocks on her thick front door- not the first time at least. When they ensued again far louder, however, her eyebrows arched in sudden surprise, and she briskly made her way over to the door and swung it open- and there he stood.

Seeing him now was so odd, she had forgotten all the little details this new form held. He had a sharp look about his slender frame, and it almost frustrated her that she had to look up a couple of inches to meet his face- His face, which held the slightest hint of amusement from the twinkle in his eye and the tug of a grin at the corner of his mouth. His silver hair was cut short, and sharp, but some how managed to seem rather unkempt- she made the assumption (a correct one) that he had not attempted to brush it since the conundrum in Victorian London.

She didn't know it, but she had been staring at him blankly for several minutes, and just as he was about to open his mouth to say something, a thought hit her, and she furrowed her brow, hands quickly rising to be placed on her hips, "Where the hell have you been? Do you know how hard it is to find the train station in the middle of _Cardiff_?" She complained, and he arched his eyebrows, taken aback by her sudden outburst.

Clearing his own throat, he raised his hands to reveal the cardboard tray of coffee cups he held, "I went to get coffee, remember?" He defended, and she narrowed her eyes, arms folding, "I have my own bloody coffee on the go thank-you very much- that was _two weeks_ ago- Doctor." She found herself hesitating as she used his name, and she knew she'd have to spend some time alone at some point to confront herself on her identity crisis with him.

At her last comment, he opened his mouth and shut it several times in an attempt to come up with a response, before Clara chuckled lightly and rolled her eyes, "Come in. I have some coffee ready, take a cup from the cabinet if you want, it's the one under-" The telephone in her hallway cut her off, and she spun on her heels, walking towards it and quickly gesturing for him to continue in, "It's probably just a sales marketer or something." She murmured, before picking up the phone and placing it against her ear,

"Hello?"

"Hi. It's…me again."

Something about the voice on the other end was like a blow to the stomach, but one that came from an invisible force.

"I… who is this?" She questioned, glancing nervously over to the Doctor to see him preoccupied with finding the right cupboard,

"Surely you remember me, Clara… my impossible girl." Of course- His voice; she could recognise it anywhere,

"Do-" Remembering who she was in the company of, she thought it best not to say the name, "You're with me now… is it you?"

"More than ever. You might be glad to hear my voice again-"

"When am I not?"

"But you shouldn't be. You know just as much as I do that I shouldn't be talking to you now. You know what's supposed to happen." At this, a feeling of utmost dread filled Clara. The Doctor continued,

"Something's gone wrong. I don't know what, I don't know how- but time isn't moving, if you understand."

"I… I don't think I do."

"Everything has stopped for me, Clara. Everything in my point of time has completely frozen and you were the only person I could contact. That's why you can't say anything yet. The Doctor that's standing with you doesn't know you are talking to me, because- well, if I'm honest, I can't give an explanation. The only thing I can say is that whatever is going on here? It's going to be like this for a while, which means we have enough time to figure things out."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've been counting perceived time- it's been two days since everything stopped, and that's why I needed to ring you. I needed to get some help from my companion, for one last adventure- unfortunately, it's going to have to be over phone."

Even considering the predicament, Clara couldn't help but smile- the thought of an adventure with her Doctor even when she couldn't see him was a comfort to her.

"Where do we start?" She smirked,

"I need you to check the date that I am at. 25th of December, 2013."

"Should be easy enough, I can do it now-"

"No. Not on a computer… this is where it gets a little tricky. I don't know how, but you need to find a way to check on the TARDIS systems. The screens?"

"The screens… right. How?"

"It's easy enough once you start them up, the hard part is managing to do it. You can't get me- The Doctor to do it. I don't know what effects this has had, but something tells me that it would be best if you avoided the events in Christmas to him. And whatever you do, don't say a word about me, or this conversation. I'll ring back tomorrow- and I'll have an estimate of how long we have then."

"…Okay. Be careful." She murmured, worry beginning to set in.

"I will. Goodbye, Clara Oswald!" He chirped, his voice filled with life, "I Lo-… I look forward to talking to you tomorrow- and to seeing you soon." He smirked, before muttering something about Christmas as he hung up.

Turning around, she yelped to see the Doctor standing there, two mugs of coffee in his hands, and a single eyebrow raised, "Odd conversation. Who was that?"

"Oh… just an old friend who needed a little help looking something up." She replied casually.

Of course… it was the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

They had spent 25 minutes sitting around drinking coffee, and though they talked of many things, Clara thought of nothing but the phone call, and how she was going to manage getting time alone at the TARDIS control panel long enough to allow her to research Christmas- it seemed impossible! _'But I'm the impossible girl, I'll think of something.'_ she thought, determined to fiddle her way about it. She almost felt instinctively guilty, holding back such a massive secret as this from the Doctor before her now- but she knew what she had to do, and she'd do anything to be able to talk to _her_ Doctor for just a little longer. Phasing back into reality, she realised the Doctor was looking at her expectantly, "So? Where?" He pushed, standing up from the armchair opposite. She furrowed her brow slightly, confused, "Where?" She repeated, standing up in sync and absently taking his coffee cup, "Yes, where- where do you want to go today?" He urged, rolling his eyes, "Oh! Sorry, I had a bit of a blank- um… hmm. Ooh! I tell you who we haven't visited in a while…" She began, a smile beginning to slowly form on her face. He blinked slowly, but then it hit him, and his face grew aghast quickly, "Oh you've got to be kidding me, not her! You two might as well be married!"

"Oh, you love Jane Austen too! And besides, I still haven't got her back for the prank she pulled on me last time- have you even _read_ her books? They're amazing. You should know! _You_ , of all people, Mr 'Omnipotent, mysterious, brooding timelord', _must_ have had time at some point in your life to have read one of her books." She pushed, mocking his brooding face with a mischievous glint. He wrinkled his nose and huffed, "Yes, well being the 'Omnipotent, brooding- whatever- _I_ don't have time for soppy classics. I read, CALCULATIONS, and PHYSICS- not _romantic novella_ and _life drama_ \- what do you think I am? A pudding brain that spends their life watching Corrie?" He ranted, and she couldn't help but smirk- but then she thought of an idea, and stored it carefully at the front of her mind, waiting until they returned to the TARDIS.

Clara leant against the controls once they got in the TARDIS, staring at the Doctor with a tilted head and a tilted smile, until he noticed, and shuffled awkwardly, finally raising the question, "What? what is it? I know that look, that's the 'let's scare the timelord with a snog box joke' look." He cautiously stated, circling round to stand opposite to her, and not taking his eyes off her for a moment. The statement shocked her, and she let out a sudden laugh, "You remember the 'snogbox' epidemic?" She questioned in disbelief, and his face lit up too, "Of course I do! I'm still not impressed. She's is _not_ a snog box, and I said this before!"

"You did! Oh, and remember soon after? I had to pretend you were my boyfriend, and that escalated when we were on Chr-" Clara cut off, her face slowly dropping to a halt. _'Christmas. Better not, it just brings bad memories- and this isn't him, this isn't then.'_ The Doctor almost knew the full reason why she had halted her phrase, and he knew it wasn't a good idea to bring it up, so instead, he changed the subject, "As I say… I've never read Jane Austen." Once again she had been thrown into thought about her Doctor, and once again he had tugged her out of her frosted daydreams, "Ah! But you have a library in here, right?"

"…Yes. Where is this-"

"Go! Go find one of her books. Please? I'm not going anywhere until you've read one of those books, or at least _started_ one." He let out an exasperated sigh, and then turned, throwing his hands up in a mock surrender as he walked off with the clanking of boots against metal grated flooring, before murmuring, "Fine- yes, _Miss_ Oswald- if it keeps you happy…"

She watched anxiously until she was almost certain he was out of sight, and then span around quickly, the TARDIS making a sporadic uproar of humming to show it disapproved as she placed her hands against the sides of one of the screens, "Yes, alright alright, I get it, now hush, it's for _him_ , and you should know it. Or, maybe not actually. Oops." her fingers flew through several screens as she figured out where to search this, inevitably finding a screen called 'CONCURRENT ANOMALY DETECTION', with a section for time and place. so she poked at the screen with rapid fire fingertips, 'TIME: 25TH DECEMBER, 2013 / PLACE: CHRISTMAS' The TARDIS spent several painful seconds searching around, but eventually the screen flared up with a flash of white, '! GLOBAL MANUAL STASIS. TIME ANOMALY- SPREADING !' Biting hard on her lip, Clara heard the faint clanking and hurriedly shut off the screens, a single bead of sweat arising on her temple as she swizzled around, leaning back casually and smiling as the Doctor emerged from the door, an unamused expression and a battered copy of an unread book in hand, "Here. But do I need to read it _now_?" He pined, and she nodded firmly, "How about we leave it a day- you read the book, and I'll sleep-' she pointed a finger at him sternly, and a fake look of strict authority appeared on her face, as she puffed up her lips and narrowed her eyes, "But I want that book read by 10AM, sharp. Or there will be consequences- like a trip to see your new favourite author." She couldn't help but smirk at the end of that sentence, as he opened his mouth in frozen protest, before grumbling quietly to himself, "Oh, yes Missus." And flipping the book open with attitude as the door clicked shut.

Clara let the cool air brush through her hair like a mother to her young child, and slowly made her way up to the front door of her house, looking back and watching The TARDIS dematerialise as she leant against the front door, opening it gently and gliding in before locking up and grabbing a kitchen stool and a newspaper, so that she could sit by the telephone- and wait for him to call. As she sat there, not once did she take a fleeting glance at the paper- it was more an excuse to waste time. Instead, she mulled over the message, not quite sure what it meant- all she knew was that it was urgent, and bad.

The Doctor had finished the book within 10 minutes of his casual orbit of the earth in space- _'What can I say, I'm a fast reader.'_ Admittedly, it wasn't the worst book he'd ever read. It was eloquent, and provided societal context and a higher standpoint of meaning than the story itself, which differentiated it from being just a silly soap opera of a book. But when he had put the book down and prepared to get the TARDIS back in motion again, he realised that something was bugging him. He frowned suddenly, and froze, hand half stretched out towards the handbrake- _'what is it? I know there's something.'_ as he thought harder, he realised that Clara had seemed off today. Not only was she distant, but she had voluntarily decided to wait a little longer before going on an adventure again- this was odd. The Doctor didn't immediately think about how, or why- the first question that came to mind was When. Since when had she seemed so fuzzy? Then it hit him-

that phonecall. It could be nothing, but it could be something- and he was determined to find out which of those two alternatives it could be.


End file.
